The Millennium Gallery
by Bitway
Summary: It's a gallery unlike any other, one that can trap people there and turn them into something to put on display. It's all thanks to him, the one who owns it. And it's time he capture another, even if it may be his last. {dark artist au, oneshot, one-sided ships}


It's a strange gallery, the Millennium Gallery. One with grotesque sculptures, ones crafted with the very essence to unsettle the viewer. They were twisted, disfigured, human and yet anything but that, only in likeness. Abominations. They could be described as so, but that is what made them interesting. And so were the paintings. Those that have no eyes and yet visitors can sometimes _feel_ a stare coming from them. The humans on canvas looked so real, felt so real, yet could not be. It was only an image and their painted fate was what made them art.

The owner, curator, creator of certain, most pieces here enjoyed them. How could he not? He reveled in the thought of showing off the darker side of human nature, something so ugly that people normally kept hidden beneath their fleshy surface. It was unnerving and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy watching some guests squirm and turn their heads away to certain works. Perhaps they connected with it- saw their own darkness reflected within it and couldn't stand the sight of it.

The thought would bring a smile to his face. With such a gentle smile, gentle disposition, one would never think that would light up his face. Those spirits that inhabited these walls would say otherwise. They knew about him, knew his interests, knew what made him tick, knew what he had done. But, their fates were tied together so it was only natural they knew about the human and vice versa.

 _'Ryou, Ryou, Ryou...'_

"Hm?"

The whispers of his name echo throughout the room. He hears their voices clearly and cocks a curious look over to a possible source. A nearby painting, a sculpture. A human wouldn't be calling for him, not with a voice like that.

 _'Ryou...'_

The man sighs, walking past a few guests as they admire works. He wants to take interest, hear what they see in his art, but someone is calling out to him. He could ignore it which would only cause the whispers to grow louder and louder, especially now that he had finally identified who was calling out to him.

Footsteps echo throughout the gallery, a mixture of his and those visiting. Sometimes, others could be heard, those that weren't either one. Those were more noticeable on quiet, slow days. Ryou continues his trek until he stops at a painting. He knew what was coming, knew how he'd appear to be if anyone else were around. He was already considered strange- what would the difference be if people saw him as stranger?

The artist doesn't turn his body, only his head to look at who had called him. A woman in blue, a beautiful woman. A dress of silk, brown hair tied up in a loose bun, a curl falling yet not looking out of place. Her smile would be warm and comforting if only she had skin to cover up her boney jaw. And her eyes could have been the same, one could have, the other had gone missing, gouged out. A beautiful woman she was, with a literally bony smile, a single eye, and a heart shaped hole dug into her breast. Her imperfections are what made her so appealing.

 _'I...'_

"Yes?"

 _'... **hate** you.'_

Ryou stares at her for a moment, noticing the flicker in expression. That smile had hardened into an angry scowl, her one eye shooting daggers into him. And for a brief second, he could have sworn that she had moved, hand stretching out from her resting lap and coming out of the frame she was painted on. He could even feel her hands caressing his throat.

And to all that, he laughs.

"I know you do."

He looks like a madman, he thinks. Laughing out of the blue and uttering something out of context to a painting. If only they knew, if only they could see and feel what he did. Not that those around here couldn't. No, the spirits here were playful things. They'd do the same to an unsuspecting guest, but it would only be a passing feeling. A chill sent down there spine and a ghostly, cold touch left behind.

It was a gift from those there, or so they would say. They'd be leaving their mark on a living being and maybe even call them back one day. Ryou wouldn't be surprised to see a frequent visitor. But they never lasted long. Being to frequent to a gallery like this was a curse.

"Excuse me?"

There was a voice, one human and not whispering for his soul. With quick turn of his head and he finds someone beside him. A shorter male with multicolored spiky hair. Dark clothes that didn't quite seem to match with his kind features. There was a curious gaze in those purple hues of his, waiting for...something. And it was a reminder to the artist that he had spoken- he shouldn't be staring.

"Ah, yes, may I help you?"

"I just wanted to get a better look at her- oh," a sudden pause, "You work here?"

(He called the painting her...)

"Yes, I do." A hand is placed over his chest and he lets out a soft chuckle. He takes a step, moving aside for the other male to get a look at her. "I'm not in my usual attire today, so I suppose I look like anyone else here."

The guest takes a step forward, eyes going from Ryou to the painting. "I wasn't sure if the uh, curator was around?" It's a question with uncertainty, he notes, unfamiliar to the terms of a place like this. "I wanted to ask about some of the stuff here, so..." His head turns and he smiles. "I guess I got pretty lucky to run into you here, huh?"

(A beautiful smile, charming and sincere. He feels a warmth bubbling in his chest, one that he knows he shouldn't.)

"You did. I should have been at my place in the entrance, but I got a little distracted." He'd never say why, not truthfully. Always beating around the bush.

"Did you hear something and had to go and investigate?"

"You mean...?"

"Ah, well..." His hand is raises and scratches the back of his head. He seems nervous to speak. "I've only heard rumors about this place and if you're the one who, you know, runs it..."

"It's fine." Ryou waves a hand. "I know the rumors spread. I take no offense in any of them." Because he knew how truthful they could be when they only had the intent of being false. And he knew which ones were crafted by strangers. It was an interesting thing to hear them. Now, what had this man heard about his lovely gallery?

The guest seems to relax more, hand returning to his side, eyes glancing back and forth between the two, human and painting. He shivers for a moment as he looks away from the lady, but Ryou doesn't mention it. "I heard there were ghosts here. And that sometimes things move." He gestures to the painting in front of them. "Like this painting could be somewhere else and no one has touched it. And I thought maybe that's what you came to inspect?"

So, that's what he heard? Common rumors, just a typical haunting.

"Those that hang here do have a way with meddling with people. They even torment me to sometimes. But, I assure you, this one hasn't moved. It would be a sight to see, wouldn't it? A painting moving on it's own."

"I don't know if I would want to see that. But I have to admit, it might be funny to see it grow some legs and run around for a while." He begins to chuckle at his own joke, imagining a painting with legs.

"I think those are best left to the mannequins here." Those that had both functional legs. Which weren't many. Perhaps that's not the best comment to add. "But it would be pretty funny."

Silence settles between the two. For Ryou, it's one he's used to. Talking to people is a difficult thing. Words come and go and if this one isn't about to spew ideas, theories, topics about art at him, then he doesn't know what to bring up. He notices the other shuffle in place. Perhaps trying to think of a way to excuse himself.

"Can you show me some of the other stuff here?"

It's an unexpected question, but one he can't say no to.

"Of course. If you have any questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them." Ryou politely smiles to the other, ready to turn on his heel before being stopped by another question.

"Oh, right, what's your name?"

"Ryou. And yours?"

"Yugi." There's that radiant smile of his again. "Nice to meet you, Ryou."

The artist finds him too polite, too kind. It makes him smile without force. With a motion of his hand, he begins to lead Yugi around the gallery. Showing him whatever he wished for. Explaining what he could without divulging too much information. Never once admitting to being the artist of works here.

He finds that Yugi is a great fellow, curious about the arts and yet slightly unsettled about what's here. He hardly ever expects someone to feel right at home in a place like this. They'd probably be an odd sort, just like him. But, this one isn't. He listens when he talks, waits to ask questions, occasionally brightens up when he mentions something about games- how that topic had been brought up, its a mystery. An adorable guest, truly. He doesn't fit in here at all.

Showing the guest around begins to call forth the spirits. He ignores the whispers, the voices that are teasing and poking fun at him. He wants to be a good host for Yugi and the spirits say otherwise.

 _'Look at him...'_

 _'Smitten...'_

 _'Precious Yugi!'_

 _'He's ours!'_

(He's mine.)

"Hey, Yugi!"

It's a loud voice that Ryou is certain could be heard throughout the gallery. It even manages to startle some of the paintings, even him- a rather rude thing to do for a human.

"Oh, hey, Joey!"

Yugi's voice isn't as loud, but his tone is...different. Happier, less formal, he's more familiar with this Joey person. That's how it is, to change from being around a stranger to being around a friend. How...strange. Ryou's seen it before, but it's always a fascinating thing to see up close.

"We thought we lost ya back outside," the blonde, Joey, says once he's by Yugi's side. An arm is placed around his shoulders and pulling him close. A friendly gesture. Either they've been friends for years or this was just something he did.

(There's a pain in his chest and he can't ignore it. He knows, he knows, he knows. He had been foolish to think this would be the beginning of a normal friendship. They never lasted; he was the reason why.)

Ryou stops fully paying attention to their exchange of conversation. Slowly, he's butted out but he sees Yugi trying to bring him back in. Eventually, Joey mentions they should go, he's hungry and wants to eat and is already pulling the smaller male with him out.

"Yugi..." He breathes out his name, waits for the other to turn around. He shouldn't bring this up, shouldn't ask, shouldn't be the one to change his fate. "Would you be willing to come back again? I really enjoyed speaking with you." And yet, it doesn't stop him from asking.

"Of course! I'll try to stop by in a few days, Ryou!"

And the poor soul doesn't even know what he's agreed to.

~...~

"Yugi..."

His voice is said in a soft sigh, almost a murmur. Ryou looks down at the sketchbook sitting on his lap, the image of that man roughly sketched onto it. He couldn't ask for a picture, they had only met so many times after all, and he didn't need one in the first place. The artist could recall how he looked, how he wore that smile around him, how he wore that smile around his friends. It was so beautiful, fitting for that kindhearted person. And it didn't even hide anything, unlike his own smile.

A pencil begins to go over lines, unnecessarily darkening them. His mind is elsewhere, lost in the thought of this male along with his current location. His hand comes to a stop and he lifts his head form the paper.

It's a gallery, _his_ gallery, another one granted to him in another world. A darker, twisted, possibly spirit-related world. Art came to life here, _literally,_ and only so many were friendly. Not to mention the creatures that walked these walls. Or so those that 'lived' here said. _He_ said so to. Whoever _he_ is, Ryou isn't sure. He had never gotten a name, no matter how many times he asked. He was always avoidant of the subject. But, hadn't been so when it came to asking to see him. It was a miracle he had been graced with a vision of a body, though was surprised it had only reflected his own. The excuse of taking up the owner's image was easier than using his own body was given when he'd ask that.

Before being able to see his body, it had only been a voice for as long as he could remember. The first time he was in this gallery, the first time he stumbled upon this distorted world. It was a voice that led him astray from his mother's hand and a voice that led him to safety. He could never forget it.

(It was a dark voice yet soothing. It held malice and yet never once brought harm to him, no matter the amount of threats that may have spewed from his lips.)

Ryou finds himself staring at the wall, something slithers on by and it's a safe guess that it might be one of those spirits. A dark snake like creature that passes over his feet. He remembers this one, how it used to hang on the wall before. When he had gotten too close and touched the frame, the creature had sprang to life. A spirit, an essence of a painting.

They weren't like those in his normal gallery. These could be seen, move freely. The limitations bound to them thanks to being in a mortal realm were nonexistent here. And for a change, it was nice to see those that he created come by him. Most of them anyway. He could live without running into those more violent ones, those that wanted nothing more than to be freed from this prison.

A hand runs over the creature, he's careful to not force his hand through it. It's a weaker one, barely able to allow a touch. The human's gaze lingers around the area. More floating, disembodied figures of all kinds were gathering around. Art that was literally flying by. A sight only he, and those brought here, were allowed to see.

"You're taking too long."

It's the voice, _his_ voice. It warms his soul like that human had, but in a different way. He can't describe it either. It had always boggled his mind, trying to capture the feeling. Maybe one day he could properly define it, whether with words or art. Nevertheless, his head turns, smiling up at his angrier and almost disapproving reflection.

"Hello to you to."

The reflection rolls his eyes, letting out a grunt to his reply. The owner never feared him, it was an annoying thing. He wasn't human, shouldn't that alone be a scary thought? Not to him, but that made the owner slightly more bearable to deal with.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I did." Ryou sets aside his sketchbook and pencil, gently ushering that spirit away so he could stand, speak with him face to face. "You expect me to rush this?"

"Of course I do." His arms cross, raising his chin and trying to look down upon the artist. He always wanted to seem like the bigger, taller of the two. "You don't want him to be stolen from you now, correct?"

The artist bites at his lip, glancing away. He shakes his head in response. "I don't, but...he won't be stolen from me."

"And how do you know?" The reflection takes a step forward. "His so called friends keep stealing him away from you, remember? Every time you speak with him, _they_ come for him."

"I know..." Ryou's gaze drifts down now. He hated when this happened, being told what he already knew. It's not like he needed the reminder, it only made his heart ache.

"You know what you need to do, don't you?" The voice is closer and when Ryou looks up, he can clearly see him- himself. The voice, looking down upon him with a sickening, mischievous grin. A hand is raised to caress the human's cheek. "You can't let him get away. He _needs_ to be here."

There's a chill sent down his spine to the touch. It's cold and turns to warmth. An unusual thing for a spirit. "I won't let him get away," he responds with a confident smile. "I'll keep him here. I want him to stay with me."

The reflection chuckles, but stops as he feels Ryou's hand place over his. The human's touch was unexpected. They never were supposed to interact, never touch. And yet, he had found a body to do so. He was a strange human to make him have such a thing.

"You know...I wouldn't let you get away either." The human's voice is sweet, hiding his true colors, they both know.

Hearing that makes the creature grin. "You'd be dead if you tried." His fingers turn into claws and scratch, pierce the flesh of his cheek. It stings for a moment. "Never try to hunt a monster that knows the hunter."

The human chuckles and pushes the voice away. His hand covers his cheek while he rolls his eyes to that threat. He always wondered what kind of art work he'd be turned into. This devilish voice, a mysterious creature who always remained in the dark. A creature born from the shadows...wouldn't it be a truly terrifying thing to see? If only he hadn't been here since it all began. If only he weren't a demon.

"You wouldn't really kill me, would you?"

Ryou doesn't get an answer. And he's not sure what it would be, truthfully. And that seems to scare his reflection away. After giving him a glare, the usual 'don't ask something like that again' look, he's gone.

And Ryou is left with his thoughts, thoughts of Yugi and what he would turn into. Someone with pure intentions was a rare thing, but no one was ever truly innocent. Darkness had tainted his soul and he would find out just what type of stain he kept hidden beneath his surface. It was almost heartbreaking knowing he wouldn't be around to speak with, no more pleasant conversations, no more smiling and laughter, no more being stolen from him. He'd become a work of art for all to see and he's certain everyone would love it.

With eyes shut, he breathes out and waits to return home, to the _normal_ gallery.

"You know what to do."

(He doesn't know if that was his own voice or his reflection's.)

~...~

"Please, Yugi, would you mind coming with me?"

He tries not to sound desperate but he knows, he just _knows_ that his friends are on his way to meet with him. There's only so much time he has left before he'll be snatched away. A beautiful painting lost thanks to procrastination. He couldn't have that.

He couldn't.

"Of course, Ryou. Is something the matter?" Yugi asks while walking beside him. There was a curious look in his eye, interwoven with worry as well. Had he picked up on his desperation? His bit of growing restlessness? "You seem a little...well, impatient."

"Do I?" That pleasant smile is forced upon his face with ease. "I just want to show you something, it's meant only for you and your eyes only."

"Really?" A happy smile comes on his face. It's the thought of a _surprise_ that lights him up. He liked surprises, Ryou found out. And if he knew anything of this one, it would be one he hated. Yugi's features fall, confused, once they stand before the lady in blue. "Why are we here?"

"Don't you remember, Yugi? This is the painting that drew us together." Ryou gestures to the woman with scornful eyes. She seems angrier than the last time they were here. "And it's the one that ties us together. I could never thank her enough for leading you to me." She hadn't, it was a stroke of luck, but it sounded better this way, didn't it?

 _'Perish!'_

(Shut up.)

She's angry, but he can use that, channel it and make her work for him. It'll help with taking a victim- a _guest_ to the other side. "And she'll do so much more, just you wait."

Yugi was left confused. Ryou was odd, yes, but he was definitely acting stranger than usual. He wanted to speak, but couldn't find his voice. The world around him began to sway, the lights began to flicker and a slow darkness seemed to be taking over. He wanted to cry out for help, a hand reaches out to grab onto Ryou, yet his hand can't reach him. Fingers grab at nothing, he thinks for a moment that he felt fabric but couldn't grasp it.

There's a terribly loud screech that comes from the portrait. And he swears that his heart had stopped beating. That woman in blue had grabbed onto the frames of her painting, forcing herself out, never once silencing her wailing cries. She loomed over the human, garbled noises, as if trying to speak, coming from her as hands- claws were extending towards Yugi. The last thing he recalls is a deathly odor, the feeling of hands pressing against his chest, pushing into it, and the sight of Ryou simply watching this all play out- with a _smile_ on his face.

In an instant, he's gone from feeling like he's at death's door to waking up in a cold sweat. It was easy to assume that was a nightmare. He wanted to believe it was one. What had just happened- how long ago was it? It couldn't be real. Just a dream. A hallucination.

"Yugi, you're awake."

Hearing the voice, his head turns, eyes casting upon Ryou. Ryou who's wearing that innocent and sweet smile. Ryou who had watched him get taken by that painting- but that was all a dream, right? This was Ryou and he was a _friend_. He'd never do something like this, not to him. He would have helped, wouldn't he?

"Ryou...where- where are we?" His voice is a little hoarse and he has to rub his neck. It stings for some reason. His chest feels heavy. His body does to, but the weight on his chest is causing his breath to slow and his racing heart wasn't helping.

"We're in my gallery." His arms extend, almost looking proud to stating that fact. "Not the one you know, but another one." A monstrous one. One that he loved and cherished. One that he would oversee until the very end of his time. "Isn't it grand? I had to bring you here, I just _had_ to."

"That's..." He's at a loss for words. This all seemed like some dream he'd been dragged into. Ryou being the main cause of this all. He still couldn't believe all that was happening. His head was hurting and everything was beginning to blur. Maybe if he keeps telling himself it's a dream, it will be one. And maybe he'll wake from it.

(But, it's not a dream, dear Yugi.)

"Amazing? I'll admit it's strange." He chuckles. Strange? Coming from him? _Hilarious_. "Not everyone can understand all this, believe it either. I didn't at first...no, I think I did. It's been so long and it's so easy to mistake it as a fleeting dream. A fascinating world with those who inhabit it. They've been around for so long, some of them anyway. Others are new and fresh. But they're all dear to me."

Ryou's hands drop and he goes to his knees, placing himself by Yugi's side and slowly putting a hand out to touch his cheek. "And you'll be here to. You'll be with them, with me. You'll shine even more than you do already. Your essence will create something no one has ever seen before, but something everyone will be dying to see."

"I don't understand what you're saying, Ryou..." He's scared now. Terrified. Ryou finds the fear in his eyes like a bright star in the night. Illuminating, showing him more than he could ever ask for.

"It's okay, you don't have to." He pats his cheek, a gentle touch. "Just know you'll never leave my side."

Yugi's breath catches in his throat. For an instant, he swears Ryou's face had changed, had looked angry, hungry, his usually brown eyes had flashed a crimson red and his hair, features had turned sharp. But, it was only one look, one fleeting look that was no more. It was a shock and that had left him vulnerable to the ghostly hands peering from the ground to grab at the poor human.

He didn't know what was worse, being unable to call for help, to know that he was truly unable to find a way out of here or the fact that Ryou was the one feeding him to...whatever was here. Both hurt, both made him want to cry out.

"You may be forgotten, but I'll _never_ forget you."

~...~

"Why did we come here again?" Joey asks while making an exit to the gallery, followed along by two others. A hand is raised to scratch at his chin. Why had they returned to this place again?

"I...don't know. Weren't we supposed to meet someone here?" Tea, the girl of the trio asks. A finger pressing to her lip as she tries her hardest to find an answer. She can feel the answer at the tip of her tongue, and just when she thinks she has it, it's gone. Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

"Yeah, but...who?" Tristian perks up with a question of his own. Hands stuffed in pockets as he to tries to find this fleeting answer.

"Don't ask me! It wasn't my idea!" Joey grunts, stomping his foot on the ground. Tea ends up slapping the back of his head, followed along with a comment on proper art gallery etiquette he should follow. He mutters something under his breath and Tristian can't help but chuckle to him being scolded.

Ryou peers from the corner, watching them leave and makes sure to hear everything he can from their conversation. He had little interest in most talks, but this was one he had to hear. To make sure that his magic was working. Familiar faces, friends to Yugi would slowly become nothing to him.

 _'They don't remember...'_

"They're forgetting."

It's a simple thing, one that always happens. When they become lost in one world, they are forgotten in another. Ryou always remembered them though. Perhaps it was a blessing or a curse. He could speak of people that others knew but at the same time didn't. He'd even keep memories of them, those that were worthwhile anyway. Yugi was worthwhile.

His gaze drifts over to the lone figure, the latest masterpiece in his gallery. A small figure, a human looking almost like a child, hunched over. It's body looked to be made up of puzzle pieces, some protruding out of it's skin. There was no visible face, but you could tell it was crying out for someone. Someone to be by it's side, to stay with him. It was a rather lonely thing now, especially without any other pieces of art around it.

It's wonderful, just like it's used to be person. He could hear the painful whimpers still emitting from it. He'd pat the sculpture if the gallery was closed. During open hours, he couldn't touch these pieces.

As he turns away from the figure, he begins to feel this strange wave of darkness wash over him. He shuts his eyes, knowing he's being called back to that other gallery. It was so sudden- had the voice wanted him again? No, he wouldn't call him like this.

Either way, he's back. The gallery devoid of life, yet filled with so much energy. There's a slight nauseous feeling and he wonders if it has to do with this strange call back here. It made him feel sick, like something was missing inside him. He decides to ignore the feeling, begins to walk and try to find the voice. He finds himself going down the hall where he had last left his precious Yugi. There's nothing left of him, no physical remains. An imprint of the body that had struggled was left on the ground. And it had been darkened, stretching out. It didn't look human anymore.

"You shouldn't be here, _Ryou_."

"What?"

It was the voice who had uttered his name. When did he ever say his name? Had he ever? Why now? He could hardly believe the sudden name call. With a mouth agape, it was no surprise he couldn't find his words to respond back.

The reflection only growls, stepping towards Ryou and pulling him away from the darkening imprint. Already, something is beginning to grow from it. A spirit, whether it's Yugi's or something feeding off the essence, he can't tell.

"Go back home."

Ryou only offers a confused look. Shouldn't he know that he can't? Not on his own. It wasn't in his power to send himself back and forth. It was his, the spirit's.

Before he can ask, find his voice again, he sees a figure beyond his glaring reflection. And it seems that even he can feel something else was here. The fading glare, even if it's only for a second, replaced with something else, surprise perhaps? Ryou had never seen it before. He doesn't think on it too long, gaze looking to the unfamiliar shadow. It's a human figure. There shouldn't be a human figure here. Not a perfect one anyway.

And not one that looks like-

"Yugi...?" Ryou breathes out, eyes widening in surprise. "No, you're not Yugi..." He squints, trying to get a better view of the person. They looked like him, but...it wasn't. They were taller, a proud smirk on his face that hid a growing rage. An expression that the lost human would never make.

"You're an idiot," his reflection hisses as he pushes the human away, quickly turning on his heel to face this other Yugi look a like. "That bastard wasn't normal."

"What do you-"

"You've taken the one I needed," he speaks, the stranger. It doesn't sound like Yugi at all, a deeper voice and more serious tone. "And soon, you will meet the same fate that he had." A hand gestures to the now fading imprint. "Both of you will."

"Hmph. You seem confident of that fact. But, I don't intend to evaporate like your human did. Mine still has work that needs to be done." His reflection barks out to the other...spirit? Demon? Ryou isn't sure what it is exactly. And it didn't seem like he could even ask. "As for you," the reflections starts as his head turns slightly to Ryou, "leave."

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, with that nauseous feeling back in his stomach, he's on the ground in his world, his normal haunted art gallery. He's left confused, lost, scared for what is going on back there. And he can't call out for anyone. Even the spirits seem to have gone silent. For once, this gallery is ominously quiet.

And for once, he hates the silence.


End file.
